The Burning of Almoth Plain
by Starwars55
Summary: The Dragon has been reborn. Almoth Plain is is anarchy. One man must lead a group of Dragonsworn out of chaos on a desperate quest to find their savior. Please Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimer, I don't own Wheel of Time and all that jazz.

Spoiler Note: These events take place after books 1 and 2, highly suggested you read those first.

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass leaving memories that become legend, legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the broken mountains called World's End. The wind was not the beginning, there a neither beginnings nor endings in the turning of the Wheel of Time, but it was _a_ beginning.

South the wind blew leaving the snow trapped mountains towards a land where winter was going or gone. South into the land of Arad Doman, wet with melting snow it blew past where armies camped on opposite banks of the flooded River Dhagon to the River Akuum, Arad Doman's southern border, where the wind crossed onto the brown grasslands of Almoth Plain.

The wind blew down the village's central street to whip men's cloaks into their faces and pulled at the heavy white banner at the head of a large column of soldiers. The banner bore a serpent like creature with 4 claws of gold. A copy of the banner seen over the skies at Falme on Toman Head. There, in the skies above the city a man proclaiming himself the Dragon Reborn had fought the Dark One. It was said that the Dragon's rebirth would break the nations of the world, it had certainly broken Alomth plain.

Tarabon and Arad Doman had squabbled over the plain since the fall of Almoth some five hundred some odd years before, rarely coming to open blows for it. The Dragon's rebirth, and the thousands proclaiming for him brought their respective armies flocking to the plain like bees after honey. Winter had frozen all the armies into camps, but the spring thaw was heating the plains to a boil, with armies of the Dragon's followers plunging Arad Doman and Tarabon into full civil wars. They still managed to field several large armies against each other as they battled for control of the plains and the Whitcloaks occupying it, occasionally sweeping up bands of Dragonsworn unlucky enough to get in their way.

Lord Captain Thane Stykle was trying to prevent that happening to him. At least three Taraboner armies had marched north with the first thaw to trap him in his winter quarters. He would angle North and East linking up with the other Dragonsworm armies near the DarkWood and escape the enemies he knew were in front, and behind hoping to trap him along the muddy back roads.

They might even succeed Thane thought looking at the flyspeck village that showed not the least sign of prosperity. The houses resembled run down shacks with barns and pig sheds up against the houses looking not much sturdier. It did not help that the only inn in the village was a pile of charred timbers and a blackened chimney. Some fellow there had upset the wrong people, a costly mistake when the penalty for denying the Dragon's rebirth was often death.

The forge still stood, a low open building with rows of tools necessary for the blacksmithing trade. Several of Thane's men were swarming over the building already unloading more equipment and lighting a fire in the cold forge. The biggest man Thane had ever met approached him as he dismounted from his horse. Arms like ship's ropes his name was Tryston Farrey with the title Chief Armourer. A job of grave importance for Thane's ill-equipped army.

Farrey bowed as much as his size would allow, though there was not an ounce of fat on him. "My Lord, the local blacksmith is still here, though not pleased to see us."

Thane could not help but smile to himself at the 'my lord,' the words sounded too good to his ears. "Bring the man here." He said in his deep cold voice. As cold and hard as a Kandori winter he though to himself, yet after the winter they'd seen, everyone of them had a right to sound cold.

Farrey straitened and pushed back his mop of greasy black hair. "Yes my Lord," he said motioning to a pair of his assistance to bring the smith forward.

To equip his soldiers, few of whom had ever seen a sword much less a breastplate, the Dragonsworm had swept up every blacksmith and anvil they could find, and still they lacked proper armament.

The man brought before him was skinny and hollow eyed, not the sort of man to be mistaken for a blacksmith. "Tell me your name."

The man seemed to stare past Thane, with his sunken eyes. But he said, "Brayde Warr," then paused a second too long, "my lord."

"And do you believe in the Dragon's rebirth master Warr? He who breaks all bonds and ends all covenants. Will you join us in his service and find new life in your trade?"

Warr just stood there dumbly, Thane was afraid for a moment the man would sick up, but he nodded slowly, then more vigorously. "Yes, yes I will, my lord."

"Good," Thane dismissed the new Dragonsworn and turned to Farrey. "We'll rest here an hour, do what you can then take everything. Have someone secure you another cart."

The large man bowed smoothly, "As my lord commands." Thane mounted his horse and rode through the village to the dirt field at its center. Ferray was a capable man, who never let a moment be wasted in the continues battle he fought against time and the army's wanderings. As he constantly reminded Thane, a blacksmith couldn't work on the march.

If only everyone of Thane soldier's was a capable as Ferray, he would have two thousand fewer things to worry about. The men were split into four companies of around five hundred. Undertrained, undisciplined men just as likely to turn to banditry as fight in the name of the Dragon Reborn. One of the company commanders, Captain Mirk Lystar, drew his horse alongside Thane's.

He wore a bright white cloak and the burnished armor of the Children of the Light, with a golden sunburst stitched on the left breast. The former Whitecloak tried to look down his crooked Ghealdaner nose at him, but found Thane was too tall. Looking away across the decrepit village he said, "the village is secure sir, no sign of resistance. We wont need longer then an hour at most before we can head on."

"Very good Captain, place your men in a screen a mile or so to the north, find a good hill," he looked at the dark clouds obscuring the sun and keeping the day in perpetual twilight. "Or a maybe a good strand of trees will be better, this weather wont last till nightfall."

Saluting hand to chest, the former Whitecloak departed without a word. Lystar commanded the Heavy Cavalry, their best equipped unit of lancers who did their best to resemble a Whitecloak legion. Their leader was smart and capable, crafting them into an effective fighting unit, but untrustworthy. Dragonsworn were by definition fanatical but the former Whitecloaks were fanatical, zealous, and dangerously competent.

Two other former Children of the Light had seen that service to the light came by following the Dragon Reborn ad they each commanded a company as Captains. The fourth was a Taraboner by the name of Styfan Marsh. He'd been a Bannerman in the Taraboner army, and was the highest ranking professional soldier to join their ranks. With nobody more capable to take the position, Marsh received several promotions and commanded Thane's 'heavy infantry,' until he could find someone better.

The 'heavy infantry,' was the result of Thane's and Marsh's foolish attempts to arm peasants with polearms and call them pikes. A packed formation of Pikemen was lethal to charging enemy cavalry, but only usable if the soldiers could be trusted not to break ranks and flee. Marsh's men had never been given that chance and thus their unit was the most ill-equipped.

They were good and frightening the locals as they tore apart houses and sheds looking for hidden stores. They rarely harmed anyone-Thane had expressly forbidden that- but they were not gentle and any armed man would appear fierce. Some however found the backbone to complain, and Thane became their prime target.

"You monster!" a women with dirty hair shouted at him from her yard. Several of Thane's men were carrying sacks of food from her house to a nearby cart while another led a thin horse from its stable. "Why are you doing this to us?" the women shrieked. Thane rode on without pausing, but the women's voice haunted him long after she stopped screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

A rider came up to Thane just then. His horse was lathered in sweat and looked to be on its finale legs. One of the scouts then, watching the nearby roads and villages for enemy movements. The scout was a scrawny man, short but with strong eyes and prominent ears and nose. The trick was always to spot the enemy before he saw you, every sense was useful.

"Captain,' he said breathlessly. You'd think he'd done all the running by the way sweat slid down his face. "There's is an enemy column moving along a road five miles west of here."

"How many?" Thane demanded sharply. If there were too many they'd have to be negotiated around, but if they were a small party Thane's army could ambush them with the proper timing.

"Not three hundred, but sir that's not all." The young man was excited and his voice cracked under the excitement. "They're traveling with a carriage, looks like their a guard for some officer. I think-"

Thane held up his hand to stop the scout. "Runner!" he shouted, and a small boy not ten years old hurried up to him. Some fathers brought their small children along and Thane had found useful tasks for all of them. "Find Captain Knapp," he told the boy. "And bring him here with all haste." The boy scampered off through the village to find the Whitecloaked officer. "And get down off that horse before you kill it." Thane snapped at the scout. They didn't have enough horse that they could kill one of exhaustion.

Sheepishly the scout climbed down. He was short, and young looking, not much older then the boys Thane used to run messages. His own forty winters didn't make him terribly old, young compared to most of those he commanded, but the grey in his hair seemed to give him an extra ten years or more in most men's eyes.

His hair had started graying even before he'd left home in Kandor to become a mercenary. Though 'left' was stretching the truth perilously thin. It'd been leave or face the gallows for treason against the Throne of Clouds for supporting a false dragon as a young man.

The second sun of a wealthy horse trader it'd been Thane's brother who assumed the family wealth after their father passed away. After wandering for a time, a foolish man named Davian Gahand proclaimed himself the Dragon and a more foolish boy named Thane Stykle join his army before it was put down by the forces of Queen Ethenielle. A life in exile followed, drifting from one conflict to the next, commanding a force of Murandians in the Whitecloak War, and as part of the Illianer companions during the Aiel War.

The last few years had seen an uneasy peace between the various nations, only petty successions for various thrones. Rumors of conflict on Toman head had sent Thane rushing for action, only to find some strange people claiming to be Artur Hawkwing's descendents come back to reclaim their land. The Dragon Reborn had driven them back into the sea. Him and a hundred other heroes from legend. Thane was a practical man, he knew what he'd seen and even if the Dragon wasn't with them he still had a duty to build him an army and see them to safety. And kill a few Taraboners along the way.

Only the white cloak gave a hint of Captain Kodi Knapp's former allegiance. The short Cairhienin wore the same armor as his men, a leather jerkin sewn with steel disks, and a helmet forged by one of Farrey's smiths. Knapp commanded Thane's light cavalry, small men lightly armed and trained to use their horse bows as often as their swords.

"Alright," Thane said to the scout, "Tell us everything you saw."

The boy told his story about scouting a large enemy cam to the southeast, seeing a carriage arrive, and leave with a large armed escort, and that they'd reach a village just five miles to the west before nightfall.

Knapp tapped his lip with his finger thoughtfully. He was a prone to think things through, it was just so hard for him to make a decision. "What are you thinking sir?"

Thane was looking at the clouds blanketing the sky. They hid the sun, but he could tell it wouldn't be dark for a few hours yet. If only the rain would hold out. Thane hated fighting in the rain almost as much as he hated fighting at night. He'd had to do both once, on a cold night in western Altara, losing a good portion of his men to a strong Whitecloak raid.

"Any man fool enough to take a carriage through this country, is foolish enough to be a of some importance. An important fool might know something useful to us."

"We could use more armor, and better weapons too." Knapp added. "Not to mention three hundred horses."

"We'll you can leave out the horses, I don't expect many to survive. I plan on ambushing the bunch of them in that village with you and your horsebows."

"I'll get the men in their saddles." He pulled himself back into his own. "What about the infantry?"

"They'll be left behind, tell Captain Gentz he's in charge and he is to bring the rest of the men behind us. We'll meet up with him again tomorrow." Thane glanced at the inky black shy and thought of the coming rain. "Light I hope we see him tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Almoth plain consisted mostly of large grasslands with occasional hills covered by stunted trees. The grass was still brown from the winter frost, the trees still bare. Spring had not truly arrived yet, a more cautious commander with a proper army would have kept his men camped until the rains had passed. But Thane didn't have time, or a proper army, what he did have were a group of overzealous soldiers terrified of him.

They rode over broken ground covered with brush and chaparral scrub, making poor time on their horses, thin from a hard winter and scarce forage. Though if Thane hadn't whipped the Dragonsworn into motion, they'd probably have sat in their captive villages drinking hard ale until the next winter or the Taraboners got them. Before he came along, their leaders had been non the military type, simply the biggest, the meanest, and the stupidest of the lot.

When Thane rode into the village where most of them had congregated he'd found their leader a self proclaimed General named Tabor. He'd been drinking heavily and glared that anyone would be foolish enough to wake him. The look had turned to shock as he found Thane's night-black sword sticking between his ribs. His guards would have tried to kill him right then- Thane was a fare swordsmen but he couldn't defeat a dozen men, even when drunk-if not for the corpse. Tabor's bloody had smoked and turned a blacked char, like meat left on the fire for hours. Thane's first order had been to dispose of the body, after that he simply kept giving orders.

The men had obeyed, becoming accustomed to his discipline, but always wary of his black sword. Rumors had circulated that the sword was magic, that Thane could channel, that he was the Dragon Reborn. Thane had stamped those last rumors out quickly but the rest remained, fueled after he did nothing to stop them.

The going was slow, but the horses eventually got them to the village with an hour of daylight to spare. The clouds covered the sun so much it might have almost been night for all the men could see. Thane gathered his two subordinates before riding into the village.

" Captain Knapp's men will hide in the village, bow ready, to ambush the carriage and the escort. Once the team is dead, that carriage will make a good road block, and divider their men in half. Knapp," he looked into the Carienin's Blue eyes. "One man in four to hold the horses in this little gully." Knapp nodded and rode off, naming men who would stay behind.

"What'd do we get to do?" Lystar demanded. Thane didn't trust the man's sense anymore the smell of ale was thick on his breath. Thane had picked him for an officer because of his military background, hoping he could project some good habits on the men. It looked like the men had corrupted him.

"Your men will close on the tail of their column, stick together and don't do anything rash."

Lystar saluted and departed, not sparing words for acknowledgement. Thane shook his head. "That mans going to be trouble," he said to the stormy air.

He rode down to the village as thunder boomed somewhere in the distance. No lighting struck so Thane assumed the storm was still a ways off. Hopefully it would hold back until their business was done. Hopefully the enemy wasn't to wary of a trap. Hopefully Lystar didn't do something rash. Hopefully…

So many questions, and so little hope. Hadn't the Dragon been reborn to bring hope to mankind? Where was he then, Thane hadn't seen him since the display at Falme where he battled the Dark One and drove the Seanchan back into the sea. Men all across the plain had gathered to pledge their support to him, two of the groups big enough to be called armies as rumor had it. Arad Doman and Tarabon broken into civil war by his name and yet, he had vanished. Thane didn't even know his savior's name.

Thunder echoed again as Thane led his horse into the Inn's stable. The village was considerably more prosperous then the last one, and boasted two Inn's, but only one had a stable. He hoped his horse would be safe their as he unsaddled it and put it into an empty stall at the back. Thane road the best horse in the whole army, the men thinking that, as their leader, he deserved the best mount.

All along the street men in bits of amour and misshapen helmets were herding the villagers into their homes like cattle. Others planted themselves atop the thatched roofs anticipating the camouflage of darkness, while still others crowded around windows and doorways. Soon the street was deserted except for Than, and the little clouds of dust his boots kicked up.


End file.
